


After the Dreams Are Over

by Ineia



Category: No. 6 (Anime & Manga), No. 6 - All Media Types, No. 6 - Asano Atsuko
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, boys having bad dreams and helping each other out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 05:08:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3196481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ineia/pseuds/Ineia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are ways to make nightmares tolerable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Dreams Are Over

**Author's Note:**

> Is this fluff? Angst? Flangst? I don't know anymore. Also never ask me to come with titles, anyways, enjoy!
> 
> NOTE: I do not own No. 6 and its related media. However the plot of this story, and other aspects I created, are my own work, derived from No. 6.

     It was like drowning, water filling up his insides and pulling him down and down further into darkness.  Arms wrapped around his body, clawing at his legs, tugging at his ankles.  He can’t breathe.  Drowning.  Drowning in darkness and being dragged away from everything into nothing.

     Screaming is impossible, he can’t get to air to speak, to shout, to make any noise.  Only thinking, help.

     Help.  Oh god, please, someone help.  He’s dying, please.  Help, oh god please, help, anyone.

     Help.

     Please.

     Suddenly, everyone’s he’s ever known is gone from his mind, there’s no one to help him.

     “ _Shion_.”

     He knows that’s his name.  Why or how he knows that is his name is beyond him, but he knows.

     “ _Shion!_ ”

     Someone is calling to him.  Their voice is somehow desperate, why, why would they care, he has no one.  No one came to him, he’s drowning, he’s dying.  No one came, so he must have no one.

     “ _Shion, don’t give up!_ ”

     He knows that voice.  He does have someone.  He doesn’t know who they are, he doesn’t know who he is.  He’s just a name, he’s Shion.  The someone is just a voice, and yet with every second passing in the living hell he occupies, the voice and the someone seem to be more.  He knows that voice, that someone.  Who are they, why are they calling out…  Why.  He’s drowning, why bother.  He’s dying, why…

     “ _Shion…_ ”

     The voice is getting fainter, but the pain, the drowning…  It’s fading too.  He feels dull.

     “ _S_ _h_ _i_ _o_ _n…_ ”

     It’s faded.  The pain is gone, he takes recluse in the voice, the faint whisper of the voice.

     The darkness is gone, he’s empty.

     He feels the presence of the voice.  The voice will be there, he somehow feels safe, or at least reassured.

     But then the voice is gone, and he’s drowning again.

     Dying.

     He calls to the voice in his mind, there is no reply, no voice.

     Drowning.

     Dark.

     Dying.

     He’s dying.

     Dead.

 

     Shion sits up, his entire body convulsing in fear and he rolls from the momentum out of his bed and thuds on the floor.

     Not even a groan comes out of his mouth, he’s completely enveloped in terror, paralyzed on the ground.

     Shion stays that way for a long time, hoping Nezumi doesn’t notice he fell out of the bed.  Frankly he wouldn’t mind terribly telling Nezumi about his dreams, no, his nightmares.  Dreams are happy, what you want, what you hope for.  Drowning in darkness is not a dream, and once, when the bee’s larva changed him, it was reality.  It’s the closest to hell Shion has ever been and lately it’s been the same nightmare again and again, and he’s just thrown back into hell.

     Still, if he told him, he’d just be showing how weak he was, yet again.  So he couldn’t tell him.

     Grazing his fingers and slowly raising his arm, he’s aware he can move again.  There is so much fear in his head, in his head.  Anxiety consumes him and his breaths become shallow and hurried.

     Laying there for a moment, he tries to calm his breathing.  Nezumi is right on the bed, just above him, not to mention Hamlet, Cravat, and Tsukiyo are probably somewhere in the room.

     He’s okay.

     It’s okay.

     Using his arm, he pushes himself up and sits against the bed, leaning his back against the wood.  Gradually his heart calms and his desperate gasps of air return to normal inhaling and exhaling.

     Though when he looks at his hands, they’re still shaking.

     He’s so wholly terrified.

     Shion is ashamed that he’s so shaken.  The larva’s effects were transforming and he never felt as much pain in his entire life as he did in the moment it changed him, but why—oh god—why would his brain make him relive that pain?

     Was he not strong enough to move on from that, accept that he was changed?

     Damn it.

     He knows Nezumi had been through much worse than any pain he could imagine, both physically and emotionally, and he didn’t wake up with nightmares.  Or if he did, he didn’t roll out of the bed and couldn’t breathe.

     He lowers his head, his cheeks resting on his knees, staring down to the floor.  He always thinks Nezumi is kind to him, even if he teases and ridicules him, Nezumi could be much worse and harsher.  Yet Nezumi is so much stronger than he is, and if the dark haired boy reminded him of anything constantly, it was said fact.

     Shion decides he wants some fresh air.  He doesn’t want to be alone, he’d like to stay inside and be able to hear Nezumi softly breathing next to him, but the dryness and anxious feeling in his chest begs for air.

     As quietly as possible he stands up and exits their small underground room, walking down the hall and up into the night.

     Shivering, he wishes he had grabbed his coat, but the wave of tranquility that passes over him as he feels the wind blowing his hair and sees the light of the moon and stars brightening the sky stops him.

     Safu had once told him a method her grandmother taught her for relaxing and calming down.

     “ _Focus on your senses_ ,” she had said, “ _Think about the sensation of your fingers touching textures around you_.”

     Shutting his eyes, Shion lightly touches the fabric of his pants, focusing on the feeling of the material, so soft.  With his other hand he touches the rocky ground and felt the cold stone on his palm.  The stone was crumbly, but somehow smooth in its individual bits.

     He listens to the wind, gently whooshing and a cricket chirping.  He sniffs the icy, stark night air.

     He doesn’t move.  The wind blew, and he could hear Safu’s voice, “ _Focus your thoughts just on whatever you sense, Shion_.”

     “ _Shion_.”

     Shion opens his eyes and his harmonious bubble of serene thoughts shattered,

     “Safu,” he whispers.

     His heart beat had returned to normal, but the stress of Safu, and No. 6, and his mother, and Nezumi all flows back into him.

     Sighing, he pushs himself up and shuffles back underground and crawls into bed next to Nezumi.

     Level and steady, his breathing relaxes Shion even more.  Gripping the blanket, Shion shuts his eyes and fell back asleep.

 

×

 

     The fourth time that week that Shion rolls out of the bed, Nezumi notices.  Normally he would fall out of the bed, make a thud as he hit the floor, but make no other sound.  However, the fourth time, Shion let out a gasp and a cry that might have been a scream if he had the breath needed.  But his lungs seemed to not work and he couldn’t inhale the air necessary to breathe normally, let alone scream.

     So he ended up making a ridiculous sounding yelp, which surprisingly audibly had the raw fear the nightmare had in it, as he flops out of the bed.  Nezumi sat right up, not groggy in the least,

     “Shion!”

     Shaking, he tries get up and return to the bed, but he just pushes himself off the ground using his elbows and can’t move.  He’s so damn weak.  Damn it.  Why...  Why?

     “Shion, what’s wrong?”

     The white haired boy can’t see his silhouette, it’s so dark, but he feels his presence.  He’s right here, Nezumi is right here.

     Shion tries to speak, but a raspy breath is the only sound that comes out.

     Shutting his eyes, Shion tries again, but only air comes out in a choke.  He gives up on speaking when he feels strong arms gently pulling him back onto the bed.

     Shion wants to ask, _Why?  Why are you being so kind right now?_   However he cannot speak.  Nezumi is holding his hands delicately, sitting up with Shion.  He gives them a squeeze.  Shion tries not to shake, but he can’t stop.

     Shion lays back, gently moving Nezumi’s hands away from himself.  Nezumi shifts and lays next to him, the silence between them only interrupted by Shion’s uneven breathing.

     “Did you have a nightmare?” Nezumi says.  He doesn’t whisper and it feels out of place so late at night to be speaking at a normal volume.

     A scratchy voice replies,

     “Yes,” Shion whispers.  He’s trying to talk normally but he can’t calm himself down, his voice isn’t level and is so quiet.

     Expecting Nezumi to respond, Shion prepares to explain, but the darker haired boy says nothing.

     Recalling Nezumi isn’t one to push for details, Shion lets out a breath of air and clears his head, focusing on nothing at all.

     Then he feels warmth.  He opens his eyes and notes Nezumi’s hand holding his.

     Shion grips it and feels Nezumi grips back.

     “Do you think I should talk about it?” Shion asks, his voice almost normal, only with a trace of unsteadiness.

     “Your nightmare?”

     Nodding, Shion turns his head to Nezumi.  He can’t see a single thing in the dark, but he knows the boy is there next to him.  Holding hands and legs touching near their ankles, Shion feels his presence wholly.

     “You should talk about it if you want to.”

     _Do I want to?_ Shion questions himself.  He doesn’t want to belittle himself to Nezumi anymore by describing his nightmares, but to get it out, to release the chaos and feelings it brings from his head…

     “It was dark,” Shion begins, “and I was drowning in the dark.”

     Nezumi says nothing.

     “And I…  I was alone.  Well, I was, but then there’s this voice, and it says my name, and it tells me not to give up, but then it faded away, and I—.  I think I died.”

     “Once you died, you wake up?”

     “Yeah.”

     “Nightmares can really screw you up.”

     “Y–yeah.”

     There was a pause, though it was not an awkward one.

     “Nezumi, do you have nightmares?”

     Shion feels Nezumi tense up, but he doesn’t move.

     “Yes.”

     “What are they about?”

     Nezumi gives his hand a squeeze and rolls over, removing his hand from Shion’s.

     “Go back to sleep.”

 

×

 

     Not every night has the recurring nightmare, sometimes Shion doesn’t dream of anything at all.  No darkness, but no light either.

     When he does have the nightmare, the majority of the week (at least 3 or 4 times if not more), he hasn’t been falling out of the bed as much.  Once or twice he would, but often he curled up into a fetal position instead.

     Nezumi doesn’t realize every night either, but when he does, he doesn’t say anything, just takes the white haired boy’s hand and lets his warmth and presence calm Shion down.

     It wasn’t a routine, and the nightmares Shion has doesn’t get better over the weeks, but they feel tolerable with Nezumi beside him to relieve him of the utter fear.  Even if he wasn’t awake, he was here.  Here with him.

     One night, the nightmare doesn’t wake Nezumi up, and Shion has relaxed himself and is about to go back to sleep when Nezumi inhales sharply.

     Turning his head in Nezumi’s direction, Shion listens to his breathing.  Did he wake him up?  Damn it.  He’d been so quiet too…

     But Nezumi’s breathing was slightly faster, but not of a person who was awake.  Shion props himself up on his elbows.  Nezumi shifts ever-so-slightly and grips the sheets tighter, Shion’s foot is touching his calf and he can feel the taller boy’s body tense.

     Oh.  He’s having a nightmare.

     Shion listens to his anxious breathing.  Should he wake him up?  Sleep is important, but will he be well rested if he has a nightmare…  Nightmares aren’t unheard of, maybe the brain needs them.  He doesn’t really know, he studied ecology and didn’t learn much about the human psyche at the park.

     Trying not to disturb Nezumi, Shion turns and almost spoons Nezumi, gently curling up to him.  He didn’t want to wrap his arms around him—okay, actually, no, he really would like to do that, but he didn’t think he _should_ wrap his arms around him.  He didn’t want to wake him, because he might be confused and more scared.  But Shion could give his warmth, as Nezumi had done for him.  Shion lightly touches his arm and gingerly follows down to take Nezumi’s hand.  It feels limp, but Shion laces his fingers through the other’s boys anyway.

     For a few minutes, Shion lies, pushed up against Nezumi, holding his hand, hoping he can make him feel better.

     But now Nezumi stiffens even more, and Shion feels him trembling.  Clutching his hand, Shion hopes his presence gives something to Nezumi—comfort maybe, or relief, or just make him feel less alone.

     Surprisingly, Nezumi clasps back, but he’s still asleep.  He was squeezing the sheets earlier, so it’s not too surprising.  Slowly but surely, Nezumi’s breathing returns to somewhat normal, with a hurried heave here or there.  Shion doesn’t move, but feels himself dozing off, he probably should move back (considering the worst of Nezumi’s nightmare seemed to be over).

     Probably he should.

     Hm.

     Hmmm.

 

×

 

     Jolting awake, Nezumi’s eyes flip open.  He isn’t shaking or visibly afraid, but he’s still full of fear.  However, it’s been so long that he’s dealt with nightmares that he doesn’t shake or look like he’s terrified.

     It’s as Nezumi appreciates his immunity to the physical signs of fear that he realizes there is an arm on him.

     Though the boy himself was fast asleep, Shion’s limp arm is slung over his own, towards their wrists.  Honestly, he was lucky in the fact that Shion and himself didn’t move too much in their sleep, well, at least Shion used to not move, then came his nightmares...  But why was his arm on him?  This hadn’t happened before.

     Also, Shion was half-cuddled up to him, half-pressed-right-up-against him.

     “ _Living people are warm_ ,” Nezumi recalls saying, and it’s true.  Whether he’d admit it or not, lying here with this Shion was cozy, the white haired boy’s warmth filling him up.

     The thought that Shion had noticed Nezumi having a nightmare, and then moved next to him appears in the taller boy’s mind.

     Why the arm, though?

     Shion lets out a sigh in his sleep, his fingers curling slightly and sliding his arm off Nezumi’s.  Nezumi turns so he is facing Shion, unlike how they usually sleep, back to back.  Shion looks peaceful in his sleep.  Maybe not smiling, but definitely content.  Reaching out, he takes Shion’s clasped hand and unrolls his fingers, then interlocks his own with the resting boy’s.

     Sleepiness begin to overcome Nezumi, but he doesn’t release Shion’s hand (he’s not holding it tight anyway).

     It occurs now that Shion had been holding his hand while he slept, explaining his arm resting over him, near his wrist.  Oh.

     “Thank you,” Nezumi whispers.  It’s not even a whisper, Nezumi can barely hear it himself.  But it’s out loud, and he means it as drowsiness overcome him and his eyes droop.

     “Thank you, Shion.”

     And he’s thanking him for much more than just holding his hand.


End file.
